Page 98 of Dark, Forbidden, & Taboo

I can’t let her live at the convent and she can’t live alone.

Concessions were made and I feel like I’ve already started my slippery downward slope into hell just by allowing her to get those marks on her body.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

Ava gives me a quick peck on the cheek before she pushes the passenger door open and practically bounces across the lawn to the front door of our home.

___

I stare at the ceiling,unable to sleep.

Anytime I’ve closed my eyes, I’ve started to toss and turn. I even managed to slip into a nightmare for longer than I cared to and have now forced myself to stay awake, instead of trying to sleep.

Friday night, I’m playing host to some hooligan that makes a living out of committing sin by permanently marking the body and has a penchant for little girls.

I should alert the proper authorities. Maybe if he spends the weekend in jail instead of at my dinner table, he’ll understand the consequences of his potential actions.

I sit up and rub my face irritably.

Ava did what she felt was best at the moment because she knows we’re having financial trouble, however, I'd saved up for her to get that damn tattoo.

Granted, I had to skip paying a bill to have the money, but I can always catch up on it next month.

As I turn my face to glance out the window, I start to think of anything and everything I can do to keep my niece safe; to keep her away from that man.

Tomorrow, I’ll fix this before he has a chance to set foot on my doorstep.

Chapter 4

Finley

“There you are,” I say quietly as I dig my high school yearbook out of the box in my closet. I blow the dust off the hardcover, then go back to sit on the floor in front of my bed.

Saint Sebastian’s School for Boys.

I scoff at the way the gold foil catches the moonlight as it shines through my bedroom window. I never liked that place for one reason, and one reason only.

Sucking my teeth, I open the book and begin to flip quickly through the pages until I find myself somewhere in the middle.

I run the tip of my finger over the color photo until it stops on someone in the front row, standing just to the left of me.

The young, teenage boy ready to graduate and get the fuck away from that place. A scowl where a smile should be and inching as far away from the authority figure that made those years miserable as possible.

My eyes travel down to the list of names, each in order of how we were seated and howshewas standing.

Sister Emma Agnes Tremaine.

I feel a quick surge of rage go through me as I flick the book shut and toss it across the bedroom floor.

I bend my knees, rest my elbows against them, and drop my face into my hands.

Ava called her Celeste. Why? What are you hiding from, bitch?

I drop my hands and take a deep breath as I interlace my fingers and stare at the book. It’s lying open on the last page and I can see all of the scrawled messages that my friends left for me that year.

And even that wasn’t enough to make me happy.

Theology.

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